ORIGIN

Corsair had come quite a long way. It had taken a couple days to get this far, even, but the half-grown black bird had managed it. It was strange, really, how different each cave was; he'd never come this way, before, and Ursa had been... uh, interesting.

He hated it.

It was cold, and blinding, and he didn't want to go back there if he could help it; but this tunnel, at least, held his interest. It was cold, too--or cool, at least; but the little alcoves along the dim-lit rocky path were fascinating to him.

At one point, he flew too low, and a little spray from the river hit the old farmer's almanac he was carrying in his beak; the thing at once felt a little soggy, and he set down to examine it. "I can't get you wet," he realized, aloud, and if he could've frowned at it, he would have. He tried to fix it by shaking the book rapidly up and down (it flapped a lot) but the faint dampness he'd incurred remained. Oh, well--he'd just have to steer clear of any water from here on out.

He examined a few of the alcoves as he went, and decided to have a closer look once he was done with a first, cursory glance. The gemstones and figurines at Cepheus's, entrance, though--now those were treasures! Corsair set down his almanac, and perched as best he could (wings spread and swaying to balance him) along the archway. Strong beak began to pry at the things, trying to pull free something--anything--that he could take along with him.

Oh, now this was a treasure-!

The black bird pried it free, but it took time: the press of taloned feet, the crush of hooked beak aainst crumbling stone. Soon enough he had it loose, and after adjusting and shifting the grip of his bill on it, he fluttered back to his almanac.

Two treasures-! Two! Oh, glorious day!

He set the jeweled stone turtle-creature down (it did look rather like a tortoise, if unfathomably alien otherwise) beside his equally-unfathomable book. Excited by his finds, pupils dilated, the cockatoo began to bob up and down in a little dance of triumph. Head rocked a foot up, then down; the feathered crest stood high.

"FUCK--YES--I AM!--A PIRATE!" he screeched, though what precisely he based this on was entirely unclear.

Well, he did have treasure.

Corsair then faced a problem: almanac, and stone turtle. Both were fairly large for him; how could he carry both..?

Eventually, he managed to finagle the stone turtle into his beak--if barely--and pick the little paperback book up in his feet. This--this would do.

He just... needed to find somewhere to stash them, that was all. With another flutter of black wings (and not even thinking to look back at all the gemstones he was leaving behind, on the door's archway) he took off and flew away, filled with his own sense of triumph.